ing backward to the short and sharppointed tail. The edge of the tail has rows of spines, giving it the appearance of a two-edged saw. When it hisses it emits a jet black fluid which stings like a fire-burn. This mildly venomous toad

is from four to six inches in length, and is found in dry hills as far north as Mendocino County.

The coyote is the tramp of the desert -an enemy to every form of ani ai life in the region, and all are arrayed against him. He is a night-prowler, seldom slceps and is ever alert for food, eating anything that falls beneath his paw, and never seems to have enough. "He eats cactus and digests the needles," the veracious cowboy tells me. He seldom drinks water, or instead of going in search of it puts in his time eating rabbits and snakes, the blood serving as a substitute for water. The coyote is a species of wolf, somewhat resembling the fox. The body is long and lean, legs short, and the head "fox"." The nose is long and pointed, and the sense of smell is very keen. 1ue eyes are yellow and framed by black brows; the long ears hang over the side of his head like those of a bloodhound, and he raises them above his head when he is alarmed; the jaws are long and sharp and the tail is bushy. He does not howl, as is often related by amateurs, but "barks." The bark is short and sharp. Nothing in the shape of food escapes him, and he will prowl around the miner's camp waiting for provisions when abandoned, or will attack by stealu at night, when re-inforced by large numbers. For the coyote is a coward-he is ever running away from something, and

stunted bushes or sucks a nest of eggs, and when nothing else is in sight makes a lunch on lizards or mesquite beans. With the instinct of a wolf he unites ue cunning of the fox, and he takes his position on a knoll, waiting for something to pass, instinctively knowing that he cannot be easily seen on the colorless background of the desert, so long as he is still. Whatever comes under his paws is his meat. There is a scantiness about the coyote not seen in others of the wolf species. His hair is sun-scorched, and he has a dusty, sandy appearance, which, with his general stealthiness, gives him the most repulsive and hateful appear ance of any animal or reptile on the desert. He is the most typical animal of the desert, and the most cosmopolitan, fitting himself more aptly to its intense heat and extreme scarcity of water. A pack will surround a miner's camp, sitting silently and motionless, waiting to attack when the miners are asleep. Unlike most other animals the coyote is not afraid of fire. They creep up under the darkened shadows of the bushes and squat upon their haunches, licking their paws in anticipation of a feast, their eyes glistening like fire, as they watch the miners. When in sufficient numbers to attack, the leader barks, and all follow in the attack, all barking in a chorus, which becomes faster and faster, and the pitch higher, until it anites in a longdrawn howl in the higest key. Sometimes this concert is given in order to frighten the miners when an attack is not intended, for the coyote is a good judge of numbers. A few shots puts the pack on a dog-trot.

lank, the head bushy and square, the neck is large, and the forelegs and paws are much larger than those of any other species. He can sneak upon a jack-rabbit and pin it to the ground with the stealth of the coyote.

The jack rait of the desert is built differently from otners of his kind. He has stronger legs, and can outrun anything of his kind, and it is well for him, because he makes a most edible meal, and is usually regarded as a dessert. Even the coyote will not run after him, knowing the rabbit's way of doubling himself up like a ball and jumping sideways. He has a very acute sense and sleeps little, as he is in continual danger -more so than any other animal.

Bird life on the desert is one of the peculiar natural features of the land of starvation and perpetual drought. With the bird the struggle for existence is fiercer than with the animals and reptiles, for it has enemies in the air as well. The hawk pursues by day, and the owl trails after it by night, and when it descends to earth, its troubles increase. There are no trees in the desert-only stunted bushes and cactus. The coyote can run through cactus plants with the agility of the jack-rabbit, and there are other animals that can climb these spiny shrubs and reach the top. So the bird is

less protected, and besides, there is less food for it. One wonders why, having wings, it does not fly away to some other section where food is more plentiful, and can be had without risking so much danger of being turned into food. Desert air is the purest of any, but it is not known that the denizens of the desert live there because of the purer air. Besides, the heat is greater than elsewhere, and the pure air does not counterbalance the many disadvantages. The desert birds are thinner, have less color, and are more active than are their speIcies elsewhere. They have a sharper eye and a stronger beak, more especially adapting their faculties to a desert life of warfare. Savagery is instilled into their natures by continual dread and combat.

The elf owl, the smallest owl in the world, is found on the Colorado desert -he is scarcely large enough to utter a hoot. He is five and one-half inches long, has the shape of the ordinary owl, and looks to be as wise. The scientific name is "Micropallas Whitneyi," named for Prof. Whitney. This species was discovered by Dr. Cooper. It lives on insects and small snakes when it can catch them. Its mode of warfare is to alight on the back of its prey, and, sticking its sharp claws in its back, hold on to the death;

The

The "Le Conte thrasher," named for Professor Le Conte, scientist, is perhaps the sweetest singer on the desert, or elsewhere. His notes rival those of the mocking bird when it is at its best, and it does not imitate other songsters. thrasher is so named because of a peculiar sound it makes when seeking cover, like the whirr of the quail. Its notes are sweet and variable and of remarkable musical elegance. It sings apparently for love of music-wasting its unrivaled sweetness on the desert air. Indians hunt them when young to make cage birds of them for their music.

The cactus wren is the common scold of the desert. It skulks in the shelter of the almost impenetrable cactus patches and mounts to the top of a bush, and complains in a loud, harsh tone, even when no other bird is within hearing. It is very assertive, petulant and inquisitive, yet strangely timid. Its beak it like a pair of scissors. When it sings its notes are clear and ringing and sweet, notwithstanding its sour disposition. It is eight inches long, one-third larger than the wren found elsewhere. Prior to the discovery of the cactus wren, the "Great Virginia" wren, about six inches in length was the largest known. Since, however, the Virginian ornithologists have dropped

the word "great" in deference to our desert wren.

The Texas night-hawk is developed to an unusually large size in the desert. It lives in the yuca trees, and preys upon everything that flies or crawls.

"Costa's humming bird" is also larger than the usual species, but its feathers are not so ornate. It has a pale, "washed out" look. It nests in cactus bushes and feeds on its brilliant flowers, and when they are not in bloom it lives on leaves and insects. It is a swifter flyer than the ordinary humming bird, and is more quarrelsome than any other of its kind.

Here are also found blue-birds with ed breasts, and blue-backed wood peckers, with their continual chattering and tapping with their tough beaks. The woodpecker lives in cactus bushes, and spends his time mainly in backing up over the needles a feat which he accomplishes with little or no difficulty. He is the least combative of all desert birds, and pursues his thumping and hole boring unconcerned.

The "dwarf dove" is smaller than nis kindred. It seems to have been stunted in its desert growth, while other birds have grown larger. The note of the lark is different, and those that stop in une desert on their migration sing differently, and less sweetly. The "road runner" is a feature of the desert. It is so named because it keeps in the middle of the road and runs when frightened. The desert species not having a road runs more obliquely, using its tail as a rudder to keep its course straight.

The eagles and hawks dwell in the foothills, and fly down into the desert to war upon its striving, fighting inhabitants, wresting from them what little food they can conquer, and returning home at night. The owls roost in the caverns of the foothills, and in the night, when tired Nature is asleep, swoops down into the desert and renews the warfare. There is little sleep in the desert and little rest, for there is strife day and night in consequence of the scarcity of food. Yet, one would think that these birds would find better picking in their mountainous districts. From these caves and rocky leages in the dry arroyos bats swarm forth at

night. They live upon the blood of insects and birds which they scent out in their noiseless flight.

The largest vulture known in the United States is found on the Colorado desert. It is twelve feet from tip to tip when the wings are spread for soaring. While it is a desert vulture it is also found as far north as the Santa Lucia mountains. It rarely ventures out of une desert, however, for vandals shoot it from curiosity, and the vulture, like all the other birds and animals, soon learns to fear the form of man. There seems to be no adequate protection in this State for bird or animal life-the laws, very incomplete, are a dead letter. The vulture is the scavenger of the desert, as elsewhere, and here he has the advantage, perhaps, for the dry atmosphere prevents the decay of bodies, and herein the taste of the desert vulture differs from that of his less discriminating brother of other countries. The desert vulture is not so lazy and stupid as other species, because industry and a keen vision are necessary in its pursuit of food. As it cuts the thin air with its motionless wings it closely surveys the surface and then drops sidewise to its prey, a carcass. Scientists differ as to whether it is by the power of vision or the sense of smell that the vulture uetects its repast at the height of 1000 feet or more. In proportion to its size, the desert vulture is lighter than other species, because it is not so well fed, scientists hold. It is a better "sailer," however, than any other species, though the tuin desert air has less buoyancy.

It

has white-tipped wings, and the head is whitish like that of the eagle of the adjacent mountains.

The coador, which belongs to the vulture species, is the largest bird in America-measuring fifteen feet from tip to tip of the wings, and weighing thirty-five or forty pounds. It is not a desert bird, and only visits it to make matters more unpleasant for animals and other birds, as if there were not strife enough in this battleground of drought, intense heat and famine, where all animal life is at war, and the very elements combine to add to the scene of strife and desolation.

The desert animals, birds, reptiles and insects are specially fitted for this lifebeing enabled to withstand more heat, eat less food and drink little water. The animals have greater instinct, are more ferocious and their weapons of attack and defense are more fully developed. The air-birds have stronger wings with less developed feet, while the ground-birds are constructed more with a view to running than flying. Their frames are different from kindred birds of other sections, and they have sharper claws and stronger beaks. The reptiles are provided with more poison as a means of defense, which may not poison human beings, but is nevertheless destructive of animal and bird-life, and the animals and birds all seem to know this. Even tho insects are protected from their kind by a harder shell, and, strangely, while every other form of life in the desert has a "washed-out," dull color, the insects alone retain the bright and gay hues of their more fortunate cousins.

E

ARLY in the afternoon we passed the German frontier, and were soon whirling through the beauul

ful Bohemian Forest, which was dressed in the new green of early spring. In the shadowy distance the streams gleamed like threads of silver against the darker hillsides. My pulses quickened, while a new charm seemed to be cast over hills and sky, and at every station my ears unconsciously strained to catch the musical sounds of my mother tongue, so seldom heard in the land of my adoption. Strains of old familiar ballads and folk-lore came to my mind with an underlying minor chord to which all life seems attuned. On and on we sped through the fertile land towards e Mecca of the true Cech-"Praha," "Zlata Praha" (Golden Prague.) And it is charm

ing, this stronghold of ours, with its quaint mixture of western and Asiatic civilization.

We arrived late in the evening, and stopped at the hotel of the Golden Goose. I think it was the name which attracted me. We were taken through an old doorway, up a narrow stone staircase to the chief personage, the Portier, who, to my surprise, was in this case a woman; although there was a conspicuous absence of gold braid and brass buttons the lordly air sat upon her as if she was to the manor born.

I found this to be an unusual hotel. To my no slight inconvenience, I was put into a room with another woman for whose respectability the Portier vouched. (Who vouched for mine, I have not e faintest suspicion.) Being too tired to